SHREWSBURY.
Thereof assure yourself; so do we leave ye,
And to your happy private thoughts bequeath ye.
[Exeunt Lords.]
ROCHESTER.
Now, Master Lieutenant, on; a God’s name, go!
And with as glad a mind go I with you
As ever truant bade the school adieu.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE V. Chelsea. A Room in More’s House.
[Enter Sir Thomas More, his Lady, Daughters, Master Roper,
Gentlemen, and Servants, as in his house at Chelsea.]
MORE.
Good morrow, good son Roper.—
Sit, good madame,
[Low stools.]
Upon an humble seat; the time so craves;
Rest your good heart on earth, the roof of graves:
You see the floor of greatness is uneven;
The cricket and high throne alike near heaven.—
Now, daughters, you that like to branches spread,
And give best shadow to a private house,
Be comforted, my girls; your hopes stand fair:
Virtue breeds gentry, she makes the best heir.
BOTH DAUGHTERS.
Good morrow to your honor.